End Of A Legacy (Re-Uploaded)
by That One Bread Crumb
Summary: A man goes on a journey to slay an ancient evil, praise the sun, and drink siegbrau. And he's all out of siegbrau...
1. Prologue

End Of A Legacy (Re-upload)

Prologue

 ***AUTHORS NOTE***

 **This is my first story so PLEASE be as critical as possible. I'm very open-minded about other people's criticisms and would greatly appreciate what you would have to say if anything at all. This story of mine is just something I came up with while i was in class at school, I missed out on all the notes but I like to think it was worth it. I will be using my own head-canon so please don't get all upset if anything is different from the actual cannon, but I will try to keep it as close to it as I can. Now with all that out of the way, I do hope you enjoy!**

Fields of Tengeth

7th cycle of Gwyn's age of fire

As the sun sets on the low horizon of Forrosa, birds can be heard chirping, the wind lightly gusting in the trees. The sky is a mixture of red, purple, and dark blue, it was

sunset. The stars appeared in the sky like fire flies buzzing in and out of existence. A lone rider is seen riding fast along the dirt road through and out of a forest into a large

open field. A vast field of hills, flatland's, and meadows. These grasslands would come together to make what is known as the "Fields of Tengeth" named as such in memory

of its founder. However these peaceful lands have unfortunately been chosen as the battlegrounds for two nations who will soon wage war on each other, and they are

looking for men to toss into the flame. The lone rider, a mere messenger, makes his solitary ride for a local homestead in the hills. The messenger carries in his satchel, a

draft notice. From the homestead the riders lantern is seen in the far off distance, moving at great speed. A woman looks out the window of her cottage and watches

helplessly as the rider comes baring grave news. A man, the husband, steps forward next to his wife for a moment. He puts a hand on her shoulder and steps outside, ready

to greet the rider. As the lone rider climbs off his horse to meet the husband, he gives a silent look of sympathy, or was it regret? He hands the husband the draft and and

climbs back onto his horse, waiting for his passenger to climb on as well. The husband looks back at the little cottage and sees his wife's silhouette in the doorway. The two

men lock eyes for a moment. After a silent exchange the rider gives a nod of understanding, he would wait for however long they needed. The husband without a word wishes

his wife a goodbye, knowing that the fields of war may not let him return home. The husband looks away and walks to the rider. He climbs up and they begin their ride for a

recruitment camp, but not without a final backwards glance, and off they went. That would not be the last time the husband and the wife would see each other, but it would

be twelve long years before they do. The husband's name was Jorean… Jorean Vagend. The legendary father who was forged in the fires of war, and who would go to achieve

many things in his life,and in some ways in death. One of which would be the creation of his only son, and he will grow up to be a great hero of legend just like his father. But

in order to get to the heart of that story, you have to go back to the beginning. To take a look at a man who would build a legacy so grand that it would go down in history for

generations to come. We will get a quick look into the life of the father. His journey would start in the Grand Army of Forrosa as a foot soldier. Forrosa had just recently waged

war on their neighboring nation to the south Mirrah, and he would be one of the many warriors on the front lines, of the first battle. It was a terrible and bloody campaign.

The fighting had gone on for weeks with the Forrosans only gaining minor ground. As he fought in these conflicts he watches as his brothers bleed and die along side him, and

in that moment he realized something. He would not share the same fate as his comrades on some war torn battlefield as a lowly foot soldier with no name. He would live to

fight another day, for his loved one. And with that Jorean would fight, and kill, fight, and kill. He would gain more and more prestige in the battles he endured, and would rise

up the in the ranks of his grand army. He would later stand out among his brothers to those leading the mighty Forrosan armies. They would pick him for specific missions

and gave him formal training as a legionary. He would impress his superiors so much, to the point that they would let him become the squire to a Lion knight, later becoming

one himself. He would lead his legions to victory day by day, week by week, month by month. He was a brilliant and ruthless tactician and as such a valuable asset to the

military, but he was not without chivalry. He would let survivors of battles return home to their kin rather than keeping them as slaves as others of nobility would do, even

though they almost always returned with a bigger army to strike them down, none would return home upon that point. He listened well to the advice of the troops under his

command and would learn howto better treat them, and use them effectively without causing needless bloodshed. He truly cared about the lives his men and as a result, they

held him in high regards, and his legion became a quick choice for new recruits looking to join the military. But something unusual happened. One day on assignment to

protect a village from opposing advance from a foreign nation, a healing cleric would make his rounds in the medical tents when he sensed something, or someone immensely

powerful nearby, he decided he could spare a few moments to discover the source of this anomaly. He trusted his faith to guide him, and it led him to a knight named Jorean.

After a long exchange between the two, Jorean is convinced by the cleric to become a member of the church of the Way Of White, to tap into his innate power to better serve

the people, despite the disapproval of his superiors. Some say that if Jorean hadn't left the military to become a cleric, Forrosa would still have existed and conquered most of

the known territories. Thankfully his old legion wanted the best for their old commander, they wished him luck and appointed his second in command as their leader. He never

learned of any news about their whereabouts after becoming a cleric, he hoped they were well and won great glory for themselves. He spent many years practicing the ways

of the church, learning its teachings, and telling tales of ancient miracles in his time as a cleric. However he never fully committed to the cloth, in fact during his free time he

would take up his old claymore and travel alone into the woods. He would spend hours upon hours practicing and honing his skills in the ways of the sword and of the faith,

he blended the two arts and infused his weapon with lightning, a mighty thing his blade became. It was this constant ritual of that gained the eye of the arch deacon at the

time. He confined in the other high ranking members of the church, and they would elect to make him one of the very few paladins who dutifully served the church. He

underwent rigorous training to test his strength and faith to the gods. Very few ever survive the "Trials of Faith" as they called it to become a paladin, Jorean was one of those

survivors. He gained so much power that he was even able to cast sunlight great spears more powerful than most of the others who knew the tale. He served the church as a

one man army, a lightning paladin, who would be sent on mission trips, or sent on quests to slay those who would challenge the church and its beliefs. He would eventually

be set free from their grasp and sent into the world, given only a set of brass armor, his lightning claymore, a sunlight talisman,and his faith to the gods. He gained much

notoriety in his travels, even going as far as to achieve many things thought impossible by most. He slayed a flock of powerful witches who sought to steal the power of the

sun, and send the world into an age of dark magic, he would challenge legions and emerge victorious. He even managed to tame a rare and dangerous ice drake and

presented as a pet to a young just king with no name. He even led the first charge as a mercenary of the Way Of Whites first crusade against an occult rebellion who believed

that the age of fire should end, and that an age of dark should take its place. But there was one thing that many say was his greatest achievement to have been gained in his

travels. Long ago a nameless creature crawled out of the shadows, and sought to consume the world. A demon, not of chaos, but of dark. Jorean would challenge this terrible

beast so that it may not eat the world as we know it. The battle waged for weeks unending, until he drove the demon back into the shadow of which it came. He put upon the

the shadow a seal of protection preventing none from entering, and none from leaving. It was here that the demon would stay for the rest of time, never to escape its cage of

light. But what many people forget, is that he had a son. Those few who do know of the child, say that the child was a disappointment, a dishonor to the Vagends short but

great legacy, and that he was a fool, a coward,and a shameful excuse of a descendant to Jorean. But there are a select few who know the true story of the child. Those who

vowed to tell the stories to their son'sand daughter's. So that they could recount the great tales of him and his companions, and so that they may never be forgotten to the

tides of history. Let me tell you the story… Of Fashm, The Shamed, The Murderer, The Healer, The Savior.

The Eternal Storm…

 ***AUTHORS NOTE***

 **Hey thanks for sticking around and reading the prologue! This was re-uploaded due to bad spacing, grammar errors, and new lines of story. I don,t plan to "Re-Re-Upload" this particular chapter so if there is anything that you don't really like, just change it up in your head. But that should all be fixed now (I hope). I plan to add more to this story that I really hope you enjoyed so far! I also don't plan to make authors notes very often unless its me saying i'm putting the story on hold for a while, which I don't plan on doing. How many times can I say Plan? A lot apparently. But That's about it, I hope you enjoyed the prologue and hope that you look forward to future chapters. I'm rambling now so i'll stop here. See you next time!**


	2. Chapter 1

1

Palendrak… A small isolated mountain village located in the heart of Carim, consisting primarily of workers, miners, and priests.

The village was a mining town used to mine some of the vast ore veins of Carim silver and copper, the minerals found in Carim are

unique in that they are slightly more durable than those found in other lands, making them a highly sought after material.

Working down in the mines was a dangerous job, meaning accidents could happen at any moment resulting in injury or loss of life,

some of the ways people could get hurt we're cave ins, fires, misuse of equipment, and other reasons. And it never helped the fact

that it would get very hot in the summer and very cold in the winter, colder than the surface would get. So in order to keep people

in good health and good spirits in these poor working conditions, the Way Of White decided to step in and lend aid in the healing

of the workers on the physical and mental level, on three conditions. First would be for any resident sorcerers and pyromancers

would be exiled. Second would have the art of practicing sorceries/pyromancies was outlawed. The third term would have anybody

found practicing magic outside the art of miracles of any kind, will be either tortured in a way developed by the church to render

the user unable to cast magic or to be "purged" of their impure ways, simple exile if you could pay for it, or execution depending

on the offence. Faith was the dominant practice here, and with the strong presence of the church, it would remain that way.

However our focus is not on the politics of the town, but on a little boy who is sitting in a booth, listening to a decon preach the

word of Gwyn and of the gods. The boy never liked to go to church. He was bored out of his mind simply sitting there with nothing

to do. It always sounded the same to him "Gwyn was the greatest ruler to ever live, for he sacrificed himself to rekindle the first

flame" and "He has never done the world harm". He wanted so badly to go outside and just run, or go by the river outside of town

and play with his toys, the boy wouldn't care about miracles until later in his life, and even then he was not a very firm believer.

He's not going to just stay there and wither away from boredom, the boy thought to himself. He roused up a plan so "great" that it

would cause such distress, that his parents would allow him to go home, he could deal with the punishment later. He started to

mimic a tantrum as best he could and it worked swimmingly. The mother moved to get up and firmly take hold of his arm, but an

old wrinkled and frail hand stopped her from reaching the boy. He was so caught up in his tantrum that he had forgotten his

grandmother had been there at his side since they stepped into the large temple. The grandmother said in a soothing voice that

she would take the son home and wait with him till the service was done. As the boy stepped out of the temple, the grandmother

grasps his hand and says in a kind light hearted tone, "Let us go home sweet child, I can read to you a story from one of my old

books while you play". He looked up at her and smiled. She had always been kind to the boy, no matter the circumstances. They

walked together for what felt to the boy like hours, when really it had been a few moments, in silence till they reached their

cottage. They haven't lived in Palendrak for very long. The boy never found out why they left their first home, which was much

larger and more comfy than their current one, which was small and cramped. The only thing his parents would tell them is that,

"Some bad people were trying to take you away from here and never bring you back, so we had to go away before they came".

The boy however would overhear the father speak of "assassins" which was a word the boy had never known about. As the boy

made to enter the cottage he felt the grandmother's hand on his shoulder, he turned to look and saw that she was smiling calmly.

She got close to him and said "Before we enter here, there is something I must share with you. You know that I have been

receiving visions from the gods for some time now correct? " He nodded. "Well this particular vision was special. I saw a man

wearing terribly heavy, but elegant armor, with a large sword at his side standing against an evil woman shrouded in a dark fog. I

don't know who they were or why I saw it, but here is the thing that I find most unusual. It's only when I look at you that I

remember that man. It is still unclear to me as to why I feel this way, but I get the feeling in my heart that you will do great

things in life." He gave her an inquisitive look and she patted him on the head and said, "Go run along now, go have fun. I will tell

your mother and father that I brought you to one of your friends homes to play". With that he smiled greatly at her and she

smiled back. He ran off into the forest that was connected to the village. He liked to play with some of the toys he stashed there

near a river when his friends were at school or away at church. He was never allowed to go deep into the forest, but was allowed

to play along the edge of it. He would go running into the woods until he would find a very familiar river. He searched around a bit

till he found a pile of stones that would hide his belongings. He pulled them off the stack one by one and set them aside. He pulled

out a medium sized box and starts to pull out wooden horses, pigs, sheep, and villagers along with a wooden knight painted in a

silver coating. As he sets the box down next to him however, he hears rustling in the bushes behind him. As he turns to see what's

causing the noise, he is met with the gaze of glowing purple eyes, staring back at him. They both sit there in silence watching the

other with curiosity, till the thing in the bushes gently and timidly steps out into the open, revealing the small frame of a little girl,

with black hair tied into a ponytail. She is wearing ragged clothes to big for her and is fiddling with her hands. They watch each

other for a moment longer till the boy awkwardly speaks first. "Hello, my name is Fashm. Who are you?". The little girl slightly

shrinks into herself before saying in a hushed voice, "M...My name is Lucian, it's nice to meet you..." She gives a courteous bow.

They stand there in silence for a while longer before Fashm asks bluntly with a level of innocence that only a child can posses, "Do

you want to be friends". Lucian looks up quickly hearing the the offer. "I have never had a friend before" .This strikes Fashm as

strange, for she seemed to be the same age as him, which was six years old, and there were many children in the village to play

with, shouldn't she have friends of her own? Nonetheless he smiles and hands her a wooden sheep and shows her to the river next

to them. They played until the waning hours of the day when the sun began to set. They stood up and reluctantly said goodbye to

each other, Lucian said her goodbye with sadness in her voice and walked into the forest. But it was that single day that sparked

the flame for a lifelong friendship, they were inseparable, sharing the kind of friendship only few could ever dream of having. But

Lucian was no normal child, far from it. Her family lived together in a hut outside the village with two parents, two grandparents.

They never came into the village during the day, and would only come in at sunset when the markets started to close down and

always took to the back alleyways to avoid the streets. He could recal seeing hooded figures come into town at sunset and vanish

back into the forest shortly before they came in. They didn't know about Fashm and Lucians friendship for a long time, years even.

Eventually however, they discovered their relationship and forbid that the two continue to see each other. This however didn't stop

the two children from sneaking out at night to meet by the river they first met at. They never needed a torch or any moonlight for

them to see each other, the funny thing was that Lucians eyes would emit a faint glow in the darkness, casting a light purple hue

across the water and grass. They would play, laugh, and enjoy the others company as the moon shined in the sky. One night

Fashm asked his friend why her family was so secretive and didn't want the two to meet, he truly wasn't expecting the answer he

received. As it turns out her whole family were secretly sorcerers, dark sorcerers in that regard. It was very dangerous for them to

move into a settlement that forbid the practice of sorceries of any kind, but they were on the run from a band of raiders that their

family had been paying off so that they wouldn't be harmed, until they stopped paying their "protection fee" that is. They found

risky, but safe protection in Palendrak. They couldn't exactly live in the village so as to avoid persecution, so they built a home just

on the outskirts of town, so as to still be under the town's jurisdiction. Her collective family taught her many basic sorceries such

as casting an orb of light, or how to turn into an inanimate object, even how to turn (slightly) invisible. She would use these tricks

to toy with her forbidden friend every now and then. But there is one thing that she didn't tell Fashm, something that even she

didn't know. She was born of the abyss, as a meek little sprite of humanity. She was brought into the world by way of ritual. Her

mother was infertile and so was her father, they still wanted a child of their own however. So they looked into the abyss and pulled

a small, easy to handle humanity from the dark and gave it a physical form. The process birthed a frightful baby girl with no

memory of what she was prior to her becoming human. This however never stoped her from enjoying life. The two children would

even fall asleep together in the woods every now and then under the stars and moonlight, and awoke just before dawn broke to

return home. They are laying next to each other now looking up at the stars, when Lucian makes a strange comment.

"Fashm, do you think we could build a ladder into the sky and touch a star? Maybe take it with us back home?"

"Oh of course not Lucian. There's not enough wood in the whole world to do that"

"Maybe if we could shoot ourselves toward the stars in steel boxes with the help of a catapult or a barrel of gunpowder"

"Still no Lucian. There is no way we can touch the stars, not even the sky"

"Just you wait! One day, I'll go into the sky and bring a star with me back home just to prove you wrong! You'll see!"

They sat in silence for a little while till Lucian breaks the silence. "Fashm?" He looks over and sees her staring at him. As he moves

his mouth to ask what, everything goes white.

*GASP*

He wakes up from a dream startled gasping cold air. He finds himself on a makeshift bed of grass and leaves, in a cold

dark cave. He looks around and can see no signs of life with him. He gets up and moves around. His bones ache as he stands up

and comments, "Damn this blizzard" He takes a moment to get reaquainted with his belongings and puts them into a travel pack.

He stands up and moves to the entrance of the cave, to see how hard the snow is falling. He peers off into the heavy snowstorm

raging outside and deems it "safe enough" to travel. "I should get going soon, can't let a small blizzard get in my way now can I".

He gives a small chuckle and moves back into the cave to pick up his things. As he's doing this he thinks back on the dream he

had in his sleep. He brushes it off as just a play of his mind and says out loud, "Heh...Strange dream". And with that, he steps out

into the storm and fades from view...


	3. Chapter 2

2

"Damn this fucking blizzard" He mumbles walks alone shivering among the trees in this white landscape. Since he and his old friend were separated and exiled from

their childhood home, Fashm took to wandering around for a while. He would take odd jobs from time to time such as helping around town to bounty hunting. It wasn't a

glamorous life, but it would give him a place to sleep and put food on the table. He thinks back on that day in Palendrak so long ago that left Lucian and him deformed for the

rest of their lives. Thanks to them, he is missing two fingers on his left and right hands. But that doesn't compare to what they did to poor, poor little Lucian. He wondered if

he would ever see her again, his old childhood friend from so long ago. If he ever did see her again he hoped to see her well, but it's been so long he's not sure if he will see

her face again. He pushed the thought of her out of his mind and kept it on the task at hand, finding a place safe from the cold and not dying in this wasteland. He wandered

for what seemed like hours and the storm hadn't let up, he was glad to have at least some protection in the form of a fur coat, but it wasn't much. Not long however he

encountered something unexpected, but not unwelcome. A tent with bright colors tucked tightly between four thick conveniently placed trees, but in the storm it was

hard to tell if it was inhabited. He called out to the tent to see if anyone was inside and to his surprise, there was somebody in there. He was hastily ushered inside the tent

and was given lukewarm bread and some freshly brewed tea. The owner of the tent was an older man who had brightly colored robes and a fur cap, but seemed to be

somewhat eccentric. As it turns out he was a very welcoming merchant who according to him, survived an savage attack on a town not to far away. He and Fashm would

engage in conversation for a while, telling stories, sharing some laughs, and being grateful to have someone to talk to for once in this quiet lonely forest. Fashm,

remembering that he had no idea where he was, decided to ask the old man to see what he knew.

"Sir I must say I've had a rather jolly time with you but I must ask, by any chance do you know where we are? I will admit I had lost my bearings in this accursed storm"

"I see. Well your not the only one who gets lost in these parts no far from it. In fact it's part of the reason I set up shop here, to help guide you weary lost souls on their way,

but I'm getting off track. As it so happens I actually DO know where we are. We my good fellow are in the land of Naprimah!"

"Naprimah? I don't remember there ever being snow storms before, at least not like this"

"He he nope, it never did in the first place. This is new brand new to the country in fact. Never before to my knowledge has this nation lush with green forests ever seen snow

before".

"Any nearby towns?"

"Well... Yes there is but I wouldn't go there if I were you. It is called Zendek, it is about a five days travel south from here"

"Thank you for the info, I guess I'll be on my way then"

"Wait before you go, you should stock up on supplies. Normally I wouldn't do this but because you were good company i'll sell my goods at a steep discount that I think you'll

like very much"

They exchanged goods, a few more words of thanks and said goodbye, and with that Fashm was off.

Damn, more walking in the snow, just what I wanted in life...

On the first day going south Fashm had already almost succumbed to deaths embrace. He was trudging through knee high snow when out of nowhere a tree collapses.

Apparently it had been covered in so much ice that it became top heavy and managed to shatter its own roots. The tree came down on him hard and fast. He quickly flung

himself out of the way and crawled behind a large rock. Upon landing the tree was completely destroyed, sending shards of ice and wood flying in all directions. If he hadn't

made it behind that rock in time...

On the third day he encountered a wide frozen river. Upon closer inspection the river was only frozen on the surface, you could still see the

water flowing under the ice. He looked up and down the river and there was no other way, he had to cross the ice. He gently set one foot on the ice and it already started to

crack. He made it half way across before the ice behind him began to collapse, and fast. However he couldn't run for the risk breaking the ice under him.

He had to rely on luck and time in order to get all the way across now. He almost makes it to the end but the collapsing ice catches up to him. He is now now sent tumbling

under the frozen water and quickly began losing body heat. Panicked, he reaches for anything to grab onto to hold him still so he could try to break the ice. His vision starts

to fade till he gets trapped under a log, at least he's stationary now. He punches hard on the ice to no avail and quickly grabs a rock from the riverbed and begins pounding

on the ice. It chips, cracks, and and finally breaks. He is getting very weak by this point in his struggle for survival and things begin to get progressively darker. He tries to

breach the surface but is held back by the log, apparently his foot was caught. He struggles till he finally pulls it free and he breaches. He pulls himself out of the water and

onto the shore, he can feel his life quickly seeping away. He walks until he finds a cave nearby. He walks slowly into the deep cave till he reaches the end. Everything is

soaked, his cloths, the food, and he himself. He began to feel warm in his soaked cloths, this wasn't a good sign. He quickly took off his cloths and tossed them on a nearby

rock. He casts upon himself the warmth restoration spell. He waits for a few hours to regain his composure but he must be careful for he still needs time to rest, but if he

doesn't build shelter soon, he may not have much time left on this earth. He makes quick runs to get branches and leaves to make a small shelter. With what he has he

makes an angled roof and a bed of leaves. He spent two days in that cave cold, hungry, and alone...

He wakes up better off then he was two days ago, but he is still in terrible condition. Despite knowing many healing miracles, there is only so much they can do to heal a

person, but in these circumstances they wont help much to mend his mental shock. He has to keep going. Three more days of harsh travel go by and Fashm is holding on by

a thread, till he reaches an end to the frozen forest. It is here that the storm finally begins to lighten up, allowing him to see better. In the far off distance he can see the

silhouette of something, a rock? He moves a little farther out and can make out a few more shapes. Just more rocks, no not rocks, those are buildings! . He praises the gods

and slowly hobbles toward the village, until he hears something behind him. It takes him a moment to process what it was that he just heard... A dozen or more sets claws

scraping on ice. He turns around hoping it's not what he thinks it is. As he turns to the trees he is horrified by what he sees. Staring back at him, are what seemed like

twenty sets of eyes watching him from the shadows. They howl, snarl, and bare their teeth in a way that only hunger could provide. He was stunned and he could only think

of one word… Wolves…


	4. Chapter 3

3

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh fuck!" Fashm runs as fast as his tired feet could carry him across the field of snow, but he had trouble gaining distance from his pursuers. He

catches a quick glimpse behind him to see the wolves bony ribs, their bloodied maws, and claws sharp as razors. This alone a boost of energy and thus more speed, but not

much. He cries, only for a wolf to tackle him to the ground. It tares at his tattered robes in an attempt to rend the flesh below, thankfully to no avail. He pushes the beast off

of him and makes for another run for the town. He scrambles for his talisman that should be at his side, but it was not. He looked up see that it had been tossed aside during

the wolf's attack, "For the love of…" He runs toward it only to be tackled again right before he could reach for it. One more he falls to the ground only this time his head on a

stump. He screams in pain as the pack bites deep into the flesh staining the snow around them red. One tore deep into his left leg pulling on muscle. He punches and kicks as

best he can until he manages to get one arm free, he reaches for the talisman and casts the remaining wolves off and into the air with force. He stands up and unsheathes

his mace still moving away from the pack, albeit slower than before. He can hear the meaty noises of bones cracking and splintering under flesh with each swing of his mace,

as he trudged onward toward safety. The pack circles him ready for another attack run on their prey. They still had the advantage of their numbers, but they would be more

cautious knowing the prey could defend itself. As he gets closer to the high walls he notices a few things. One of which being the wolves slowing their pace, must be getting

tired he thinks to himself. The second thing is that there is no light, not a single ember or ball of magic lit in the village. The third thing was that there were no guards

stationed on the walls. This was disconcerting but he maintained his pace, he needed to get inside and away from the pack. By the time he gets to the large wooden gates he

begins to bang on the doors and yells as loud as he could, "OPEN THE GATES! PLEASE! SOMEONE, ANYBODY!" No response. The wolves close in, their bloody broken bodies

clear in the thin snow. He pushes on the frozen doors hopping they weren't locked, they were open. Praise the sun. He pushed hard on the frozen door till there was a small

crack he could slip through. He pushes with what little strength he had left to close the doors shut. He does it swiftly but right before he could pull it off, a wolf leaps through

the crack. He curses his luck harshly and meets the wolf's gaze. It gives a savage snarl and watches its prey for any misstep. He quickly finishes closing the door while not

breaking the two way stare. The wolf lunges for him. He dodges out of the way and lifts his mace to rest on his right shoulder preparing for the battle. He takes a moment to

asses the wolf. Its of small stature probably a female or male with small frame, it's holding up its left hind leg, bleeding, and its slouched down probably due to fatigue. It

would be an even fight, but incredibly agonizing. They circle each other slowly, patiently, plotting their first move. Fashm makes that move. He takes a quick step forward and

moves into a versatile stance. The wolf lunges and is sent flying with an upward swing from the mace, its left shoulder blade is shattered. It made a swift recovery, going for

the preys injured leg, success. He didn't have time to move back into a defensive stance before the creature had dashed beside him and bit into his leg. He screams in pain

and jabs his thumb into the wolf's eye, a wail of pain was the response, blood spurting out. They both step back to formulate a new plan. Fashm picks up a clump of snow

and throws it into the wolves remaining eye and for a moment, while it was stunned he grabs an icicle from the window of an a house and stabs the creature in the hip and

kicks the beast to the ground. He limps away deeper into the dark village calling for help in a raspy, quiet voice. No answer, still no sign of any life other than himself and that

damned wolf. He trips on something buried in the snow, then another, and another, he didn't give them a second thought as he continued his escape. He pushes open a door

to one of the huts and collapses to the ground, he doesn't even bother trying to make an attempt at closing the door behind him. He can't even get off the ground at this

point. He sees another door on the opposite wall and crawls toward it. Once he reaches it, he reaches up toward the handle and turns the knob revealing a small room with a

fading flame with and a coiled sword staked into it. He enters the room and kicks the door closed behind him. He surveys the room and sees no other entrance, but a lot of

large beer kegs. He must have entered the backroom of a bar or warehouse. He takes a sigh of relief, crawls over to the fire, and faints where he lay.

Fashm is awakened to the sound of claws being dragged across the floor in the other room. He doesn't know how long he was out, but it didn't matter now, he knew what was

coming. He tries to stand up but is still too weak, so he drags himself to the back of the room. The heavy breathing of the wolf on the other side of the door coming closer.

The sound of claws stop when they reach the door, silence. He heard it sniffing from under the door. A Whimper. The sounds of claws weakly clawing scratching the corner of

the door, trying to get in. It must be cold. _**Don't let it in**_. It hurts. _**We hurt more**_. Its alone. _**Leave it alone**_. It's hungry. _**Leave it**_. It's dying. _**Leave it**_. The clawing

stopped, the whimpering continued. It's going away. _**Good**_. Don't let it hurt. _**It hurt us**_. End its pain. _**Let it hurt**_. We have spells. _**Let it hurt**_. It's afraid. _**Let it fear**_. A slump

is heard outside, and silence ensues. Another day passes and Fashm can finally get off the ground and stand, albeit slow and steady. He opens the door to the other room and

steps out to see that the beast in its beauty, was dead in the corner of the room in a pool of frozen blood. Alone. He could swear he saw a frozen tear. He didn't go hungry

that day.

As he steps outside into the daylight, he looks up to see that it's still cloudy and still snowing, but not as heavy as last night, a light snowfall, but he is shocked as to what he

sees. The town is in ruins with buildings on the verge of collapsing, bodies litter the streets, and the stench of death runs rampant, he tries to shield his nose but he can't

block the smell. what the hell why hadn't I smelled this before, he thought to himself. He shivers as he looks to see the path in the snow he made last night go through some

of the townspeople. He looks to the closest body and notices something odd. He walks up to them and kneels down to inspect further. Torn cloths, pierced flash, he looks up

to see that some of the bodies were lined up against a wall and had arrows shot into them, others were decapitated. This place was raided, but why? He looks further down

the street to see some of the people crucified along the road. He stood up and made his way down the road to look around. After a long session of scouring the town he

comes across what's left of a clothing store, "Zendek outfitters". "So this is Zendek huh? Or I should say what's left of it. He looked down to see his robes in tatters and in

need of repair or replacement, he looks back up at the store. The inside of the store was in shambles with cloths of various kinds strewn about all over the place. There was a

hole in the ceiling that allowed the snow to fall gracefully inside the store. He begins to look around for clothing, and if they used to sell it, armor. After some time had passed

he emerged from the store with new cloths and some leather armor. "It ain't much, but it'll do". Farther down the street was the town square, where it seemed the most

brutal deaths took place. Bodies hanging from gallows, more crucifixions, heads on spikes, and piles of charred bodies. It was a slaughter. After inspecting each of the bodies,

or what was left of them, he was glad to see that his old friend hadn't been added to their ranks. But where could have she gone? He needed to start from the beginning,

where would the first place she would go be. His eyes fall upon the blackened remains of an old inn. Inside is a large open room was two rows of fire pits in the ground floor

lined with pots and pans. Tables are turned over to make makeshift barricades and chair legs were broken off and sharpened to make crude weapons. A bar is stationed on

the far side of the right wall neighboring some guest rooms, and a dining area closer to the front door. despite its decrepit nature it is still in semi good condition, he decides

to look around. He finds what he assumes to be the owner's office. Inside is a queen sized bed along the back wall, a small table with two chairs to the left, and a desk along

the right with paper scattered all over the room. On the desk was a ledger of visitors to the inn. He opened it and began to search for a name, he found it listed at the bottom

of the page. Lucian. "There you are". The book said she slept in the room closest to the bar and that she stayed for two weeks. He easily found the room described in the

book and stepped inside to see it in good condition, odd. As soon as he walked past the door frame he was hit with the scent of a sweet smelling perfume, an odd smell

considering how badly it smelled outside. But he had smelled this before, this was the same perfume used by his old friend. He took a moment to reminisce on the good times

they had together, the times before she and her family were discovered, he pushed that memory in particular out of his mind. He looked about the room for any sign to see

where she was going. He found a small journal with a crest depicting a staff surrounded by a magical aura, it even seemed to have a faint glow emanating from the crest. He

open the book and skimmed the pages till he found what he was looking for...

Entry 32

 _I finally made it to Zendek after that long and terrible journey. Who would have thought that snow storms could get as bad as they were tonight, I certainly did not enjoy the_

 _long trek. Please do remind me to go back and pay the cart driver before he leaves again, he willingly gave me a ride without any compensation, despite him saying there_

 _was no payment needed it would be a kind gesture. The people here seem to be very open and kind hearted to outsiders, and the innkeeper even offered me a room for free_

 _seeing how he did not recognize me. How very kind of him! I'm even getting free food for the night as well. I might have stay in town for some time, I would like to restock_

 _supplies and would try to avoid going back out into the wilderness during a storm. I have already made a friend during my time here and they have agreed to travel with me_

 _to reach my destination, and guess what, we are going to the same destination! I'm sure we will enjoy each other's company this much I am certain. I am going to be_

 _traveling further west to a land named Delainha. A fairly new but surprisingly large and prosperous nation. If I remember the rumors correctly it is named after one the king's_

 _sons, Prince Delain. What pride he must have had for this child to have named an entire kingdom after him. Anyway, I decided to look around town and they had a school of_

 _magic, nothing as proper as the Dragon School of Vinheim of course but a school of magic nonetheless. It was a fairly large building a few blocks from the center of town._

 _Perhaps I can teach there for a little while and enlighten some of the students in the ways of the world and sorcery, we will see. I have to go now, my friend invited to show_

 _me around town to see the sights. I wonder what else I will discover here!_

The entry ends there. Fashm sighs, puts the journal in his pouch, and moves on. He now has a location to travel to, a temporary goal of sorts. But something still plagued his

mind, what happened here and was Lucian around when it occurred? If so is she ok? He can only hope that she made it out of this mess and continued on to "Delainha". After

rummaging around the remains of town, he took what little traveling supplies remained before he left. He sets off without a word, and moves west for this "Grand Kingdom".

His journey has just begun.

 ***AUTHORS NOTE***

 **This story is by no means dead, but lately I've had to put a lot of focus on doing schoolwork, finding the time and inspiration to write more chapters. I'll try to upload more**

 **often but don't be upset if it takes a while for me to upload, in fact, expect it. With what's been happening it should come as no surprise if there is a delay in uploads so just**

 **be prepared. There are many ideas I have in mind for this story, and with what I hope to achieve here it's going to be long. So that's all for now. Thanks for reading, leave a**

 **review so I can improve if necessary, and I look forward to writing the next chapter. Until then, this has been That One Bread Crumb.**


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